Wherever you are,
Physically,
Emotionally,
Spiritually,
I want to say from the start,
You're not broken,
You're healing.
You might not feel that yet.
You might feel exhausted,
Discouraged,
Ashamed,
Numb,
Or too tender to know what's there.
But please know,
Healing doesn't always look like rising.
Sometimes it looks like softening,
Like undoing,
Like not holding it together anymore.
Let's begin by giving yourself permission to rest right here,
Right now,
Just as you are.
So settle in,
Let your body find whatever position feels most comfortable.
You don't have to sit upright if it doesn't feel good.
You can lie down,
Curl up.
You get to take up space here.
Now gently let your eyes close or soften your gaze.
Let's begin with the body.
Bring your attention to the place where your body meets the ground or the seat beneath you.
Let gravity hold you,
Let yourself be held.
There's nothing you need to do,
No one you need to be.
Just feel into the weight of your body.
Notice how it shifts slightly with each breath,
Breathing out.
There's no right way to breathe here,
Your body knows how.
See if you can let it breathe you.
And now gently bring your awareness to your heart space,
Not to force anything,
But just to arrive a little closer to yourself,
The part of you that's been doing the work of surviving,
The quiet part that's still trying to heal.
There may be a voice in you that says,
I should be over this by now,
Or what's wrong with me,
Or I've tried so hard and nothing's changing.
If that voice is there,
You're not alone,
But I want to offer a new voice,
A kinder one,
The one that says there's nothing wrong with you.
You're not failing.
You're not behind,
You are healing.
Even if it doesn't look that way to you,
Even if it doesn't look the way you expected,
Even if it's messy,
Even if no one else sees it,
Healing often happens underground,
In the dark,
In the quiet places,
In the pause between chapters.
Sometimes healing means becoming undone,
Letting go of roles that kept you safe,
Letting go of stories that kept you small.
It's okay to feel raw here.
It's okay to need more time.
It's okay to not have a clear answer.
There's a quiet kind of strength in you,
Not the kind that pushes through or pretends to be fine,
But the strength that says,
I'm okay,
That says,
I'm still here,
A strength that keeps feeling,
That chooses softness in a world that prizes hardness.
Let yourself feel that,
If only for a breath.
You don't have to fix anything right now.
You don't have to be anywhere else.
You're not broken.
You're healing.
Let those words echo in you gently,
Like tears you didn't know you needed.
Maybe whisper them to yourself,
If you'd like.
I'm healing.
Let your breath carry them deeper into the body,
Into the places that feel unseen or forgotten,
Into the tight places,
The tender places.
Now,
As we move towards the closing of this meditation,
Know that you can return here anytime.
This is a place within you,
A place of quiet repair,
Of softness,
Of truth.
You don't need to rush forward.
You don't need to have it all figured out.
You're not broken.
You're healing,
And you're not alone.
When you're ready,
Slowly begin to wiggle your fingers or toes.
Bring a little movement into the body.
Take a breath that feels just a little fuller.
When it feels right,
Gently open your eyes or keep them closed a little longer.
There's no rush.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for trusting yourself.
